Lust & Liquor

Our guests had left an hour earlier and I had finally cleared the last of the dishes from the table and stored the leftovers in the fridge. My back and feet were aching and my eyelids, burning. I stood motionless at the sink, lost in a fatigued haze as I listened to Norah Jones. Though tired and achy, a smile of contentment painted my face. I was pleased with how our evening had gone. I knew he would be pleased too, and it was the thought of his pleasure that made me happier than anything else.

I heard him approaching and closed my eyes, awaiting his touch. He pressed himself against me, wrapping his arms around my waist and nestling his face into the crook of my neck.

“Thank you, baby. Dinner was delicious,” he whispered gratefully. He never forgot to appreciate me. It was one of the things I loved most about him.

“Are you hurting?” he asked, rubbing my shoulders gently.

“Mmm, hmm,” I replied softly, closing my eyes and leaning back into him.

“Well, let’s see what we can do to make you feel better. I could go for a drink. How ‘bout you?”

I nodded and he poured two glasses of scotch.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me down the hall to our room.

I collapsed face-first onto our bed and felt my body slipping instantly into a deep state of relaxation. I let the high-heels slip off my feet as he opened the buttons on the back of my blouse, and unzipped my skirt, exposing my clear, honey-colored skin. I heard him inhale deeply, as if delighted with the sight of my freshly exposed back. It wasn’t long before he had me completely naked.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he sighed, running two fingers down my spine to the crack of my ass. I smiled though I was too tired to respond. He often told me that I was beautiful, but no matter how many times he said it, each time always felt like the first. There are words that no woman will ever tire of hearing from the man she loves. These were such words.

The warmth of our room, and the sight of my nakedness encouraged him to strip his own clothes off, and he sat beside me in nothing but his black boxer briefs, sipping his scotch while staring longingly at my naked body. I was taken by surprise when he poured a scant amount of his drink into the small of my back. The cool liquor tickled my skin, making me wince. I felt his lips run over the curve of my ass as his tongue traced its way toward the golden pool of Johnny Walker. He sucked at it until it had been entirely consumed, before continuing to run his tongue along my spine toward my neck, leaving a trail of ripe goosebumps in its wake.

I turned to face him as his fingers ran along the side of my face. He pulled a cube of ice from his glass, running it over my full lips and chin, down my neck and over my well-rounded breasts, making my areolas pucker tightly.

His mouth parted sensuously and caught the pungent scotch and water droplets as they dangled precariously from each nipple.

My body had no choice but to respond to him. Where he was concerned, I had no control, no will of my own. I wanted him in such a fashion that my body was left trembling and desperate.

“I love you, Princess,” he whispered, as his lips brushed against mine, and his tongue seductively traced my mouth.

“I love you too, baby,” I replied. Telling this man that I loved him came as naturally to me as breathing.

“Enternamente,” he whispered against my cheek, knowing that even the sound of his limited Portuguese gave me the shivers.

“Yes, forever.”

His fingers were cold and wet as he pinched my aching nipples, twisting them in an intense form of foreplay. His touch ignited something in my core and I moaned with a deep-seated sense of pleasure.

The feel of his hands and mouth on me caused an ache to grow deep inside of me and it penetrated every fiber of my being. I could feel my heart breaking as I gazed deep into his eyes.

He rolled me onto my back and reached again for his glass of scotch, pouring a scant amount into my belly button before covering my trembling skin with his warm mouth, sucking and licking the strong liquor as if from the very depths of me. Repeatedly he filled me with his drink, savoring every sip. I was drowning, not in scotch, but in my emotions. They had overwhelmed me, rendering me breathless, and I alternated between holding my breath and panting, with no rhyme nor reason to how my body responded to him.

Thin trails of scotch ran in rivulets over my flawless skin and his mouth eagerly chased them. His breath warmed and tantalized me, leaving my body quivering. He dragged a finger through the small pool that he had just poured into my belly button, running a trail of liquor up my torso, until he came to rest between my breasts. He placed his eager lips over the spot that had now been vacated by his finger, sucking at my skin, like a man dying of thirst, leaving a deep violet trace of his passion on my skin, marking me as his property. Not that he needed to. He had spoiled me for other men long ago.

Our room filled with the aroma of his liquor and my sex, which betrayed my desire to feel him inside of me. He dipped into his glass once again, and dragged his scotch-coated fingertips across my eager and engorged pussy. It twitched and throbbed relentlessly against him, as if clutching in desperation at his fingers, begging them to penetrate me. He teased me, wiggling them against my clit, which was full and almost painful to the touch. If it could have spoken for itself, it would have screamed, “touch me, please me, make me come!” Instead, those words fell from my lips and dangled between us in the stillness of our room and he followed those commands.

I came with all the ferocity of a woman in the throws of the most magnificent ecstasy. My hands clawed at our pillows as my body was wracked with exquisite convulsions. I squealed as he ran a small cube of ice across my slit at the exact moment of my explosion. The sensations he left there were like none I’d ever experienced. A river of Johnny Walker drained from his glass, washing over my pulsing sex. His lips parted against me, allowing him to lap up the drink, probing just inside of me to assure he hadn’t missed a single drop. Oh, what delicious tricks this man played on me! What fabulous and painful yearning he forced to dwell within me. His tongue separated my labia and nestled itself inside of me, burning under the heat of my desire and the strong liquor he found pooled there, just inside of my sweet cavern.

I found myself begging him to fuck me, my face awash in tears of immense love and longing. He straddled me, gazing down into my anxious eyes, and saw the great need that emanated from them. One orgasm was never enough with this man. He held his glass over my trembling body and poured the last of his scotch over my torso. It tickled as it splashed against me, running over my sides and breasts. Some of it pooled between my breasts and some inside my belly. His hands spread the liquor across my skin and he ran his fingertips softly over my lips, allowing me to taste it.

“Please,” I begged him, when I was certain I could wait no longer. “Please.”

He knew what this word meant, and what I wanted from him. There was no mistaking my need.

My legs opened wider in a sweet invitation and he lay his body across mine and slid with an agonizing deliberateness, across my slick, wet skin. Our lips met and I was electrocuted by his thirsty kiss. A strong current of desire was sent coursing through my body as his tongue explored my mouth and his hands massaged my breasts. And then my moment had arrived. I felt his cock beginning to press against me, responding to the warmth that radiated from my sweet pussy.

He pushed himself into me inch by glorious inch, and grunted with extreme pleasure as I pulsed my muscles tightly against him. Pulse. Release. Pulse. Release, until at last, the remainder of his cock slammed into me and he began fucking me like an animal. He had surrendered his control to me now. This man, who only moments earlier had been the conductor of a well-orchestrated seduction, had lost his senses. He fucked me like a man lost in the dark, fumbling and screaming, and moaning, and desperate.

I liked him like this. I preferred him like this. His pleasure was my aphrodisiac. I wrapped my arms around his waist and clutched at his ass, massaging it with both hands. It felt good and ripe and perfect against my palms. My fingers dug into the soft flesh of his ass, leaving the imprint of my nails behind, before blazing a scorching red trail up the skin of his back and over his shoulders. He sucked a deep breath through his teeth, hissing loudly. My scratches along his skin left a complex mixture of pleasure and pain that made him feel alive, yet vulnerable.

His unique brand of foreplay had made me wild for him, and he for me. Now we lie there, fucking like lovers gone mad, filling the room with the sound of our passion. The taste of liquor on his breath made me insane for him. There are moments in life, in which time stands still, and no one and nothing exists except for you and your lover. The sole purpose of your existence is to fuck each other and to feel good. This was one of those moments for me. With him hovering above me, beads of his sweat falling onto my face and body, the smell of scotch in the air and his panting and moaning, I erupted. My orgasm was full and satisfying. It echoed inside of me like the growing ripple of applause, forcing my stomach to roll over, my ass to cramp up and screams to emanate from so deep inside of me, that I wasn’t even aware they had actually come from me.

My orgasm triggered his own, and his cock jerked and danced violently as if shooting bullets into me. The coarse, wiry hairs of his chest scratched my nipples as they pressed hard against him. Every fiber of my being was alive and alert, aware of all that was going on as I lie beneath my lover.

The taste of scotch on his lips intoxicated me. As I came down from my delirious explosion, I clung to him, still kneading his ass in my palms. His tongue slipped easily over my parted lips, and darted lightly into my mouth in search of my own. He grunted and spasmed as he spilled the last of his semen into me.

After our bodies relaxed, we lie beside one another, and I sipped my scotch. As I did so, I began to formulate a delicious idea of my own. I dipped my fingers into my drink and ran them, cool and wet, along his waning shaft. He chuckled slightly, as my fingers tickled his still sensitive cock.

Once I had painted him with my drink, and his cock had been generously coated with it, my lips began a slow decent along his torso, my tongue anxious to taste the sweet, yet pungent liquor from his soft penis.

At long last, his prize filled my mouth, and I sucked the scotch from it as if it were a cool, sweet popsicle. I was careful to consume each drop, which was mixed with my juices, creating a unique flavor that I found appealing. A contented smile painted his lips as he focused on the intense sensations that he was experiencing. It was too soon for him to become hard again and I knew it, yet the feel of my lips suckling at him forced his cock to tingle, as if surrounded by tiny champagne bubbles. I knew it would have risen to full attention in my warm, cavernous mouth, if only it could have. A thin smile painted his lips as he relaxed before me and simply enjoyed the sensation of my warm, moist mouth as it savored the taste of him.

I dipped my fingers into my drink again, this time spreading the scotch across his balls. I loved the feel of his smooth skin as it tightened against his body in the coolness of our room. His balls were shaved and soft. One of my great pleasures was running my tongue along them, tickling him and enticing him. Again, he groaned and I felt his cock jump. Perhaps he might get another erection after all. After paying ample attention to each ball with my tongue, I parted my lips wider and sucked them, one at a time, into my mouth, flicking my tongue against them as I held each one inside my lips. I could feel him jutting his hips toward my face as if begging me to continue. Once again, his cock stirred, as if waking up from a deep sleep.

The rate of his breathing began to escalate and it became more shallow as I ran my tongue up over his scrotum toward his now throbbing cock. It was standing at full attention, just as I hoped it would be. I licked my way up to its tip and parted my lips across its head, using my hands to pull his cock toward me. A hearty moan escaped his lips and he opened his eyes in wide amazement, watching, waiting for me to slide his full erection into my face.

I squeezed his cock lightly between my lips and descended a bit further onto him, consuming his entire glans, before squeezing once more, forcing his to shudder spontaneously.

“Oh fuck yes!” he grunted as I used my tongue to flick against the spot just below his glans before taking in another inch of his glorious erection.

His hands reached for my head now, as if to guide me fully onto him. His fingers laced into my hair and gripped me tightly. I wrapped my palm around the based of his cock and pumped it as my mouth continued its slow, deliberate descent, pulsing and licking and sucking at him, forcing him to lose all control and all reason. His hips jutted into my face a bit harder now, as if he was trying to face-fuck me, and my movements across his cock became faster and more urgent. Between my palm and my mouth, I had fully consumed him.

It wasn’t long before his grunting turned into a higher pitched squeal that betrayed his impending orgasm. His hands held firmly to the back of my head, forcing me to remain there as his cock exploded into my mouth, coating my tongue and throat with his sticky, sweet goodness, which I swallowed entirely. There was something dirty and naughty about such an act, but that added to its appeal for both of us.

When he had come for the second time, I pulled myself off of his soft cock, and slid up his body until I was lying beside him. I gazed into his weary eyes once more, kissed the tip of his nose, and, under the weight of our liquor fueled orgasms, we both fell into the deepest, most satisfying sleep we’d had in days.